


Rekollection

by ChasingTheSea



Series: Rekollection [1]
Category: Total Recall (2012), Total Recall - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Blood and Injury, F/M, Far Future, Hurt, Master & Servant, Master/Servant, Multi, Whump, beat up, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingTheSea/pseuds/ChasingTheSea
Summary: This fiction picks up with Melina finding Hauser. Only in this version she’s been searching for months, only to find him in a most unescapable complex and Hauser has very little to no memory at all... read on...
Series: Rekollection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034967
Kudos: 1





	Rekollection

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to anyone reading my little fic here this is based off the 2012 version of Total Recall (No copyright infringement intended. I do not own Douglas Quad, Hauser, Cohaagen or Total Recall). The 2012 version is the best and only version of Total Recall in my opinion.  
> And please drop me a comment if you’d like me to keep efforting this fic. Comments are sooo rewarding... Thanks!!

It was like a very bad dream; only it wasn’t a dream... 

At least he didn’t think it was. 

He couldn’t be sure. The sluggish movements and foggy thought were very much components of a dream, he couldn’t remember his name. It was on the tip of his mind. He couldn’t move, at least not the way he wanted his body to obey. 

What gave away the reality was the pain. 

There was a lot of pain. 

He could see red. Blood. His blood, judging by the waves of pain, and it was only getting worse, threatening to send him back to the world of unconsciousness. 

But his conscious thought warred against the nauseating flood, violently. Go back there and it’s over, everything you were is gone. You won’t remember her... 

He didn’t remember ‘her’ anyway. Jesus, he didn’t even know who he was, he didn’t remember who he was clinging desperately to, but he wasn’t going to fight against his instincts. He let them take over. He gave them everything. 

And they pushed him up to his knees, he was holding onto something, slender fingers strongly clutching. It was cold against his skin but lightweight. It was then he realized the power was flicking on and off, his feral brown eyes had been open since he’d become conscious. It was a gun in his hand. The modified P-m2 military version, an 18 round clip, no safety. 

How did he know that? And not know his name? 

He gasped in pain. The movement brought awareness to his left side, punctured by multiple glass shards. The wound was the source of much of the blood. He took a moment to remove the shards. Hissing as he plucked each one out with trembling fingers, he didn’t recognize as his own. 

The light went off again, forcing him to stop the procedure. He could get the rest later. He climbed unsteadily to his feet, using some object beside him to assist. In the darkness, being vertical felt not much different than the position he’d woke up in. 

Electric wires snapped. He made out the soft glow of some sort of monitor, with various readouts he knew nothing about, a whole wall of screens were behind him, also flickering with the lack of power. His instincts were still compelling him, forcing him to move towards a door. He made it a few steps, blinking tears away from his heavy, dark lashes. Glass crunched underfoot, before he felt something tug against his right arm, it itched, he groped for it in the dark, ripping a needle and cord away from his forearm. So, he had been sedated? 

He was trailing blood from multiple places, as he again made his way towards an exit from this nightmare, his instincts knew was there. 

The lights flicked on again, just as he reached for the smooth alloy panel. At the same time, a guard was coming in, weapon already drawn. There were several others behind him, but the surprise caught him just off enough the other had the upper hand, even if he didn’t know he did until he was in movement. He pushed the guard’s gun aside and fired his own without hesitation, simultaneously using the man’s bulk as a shield against the incoming stream of bullets. He allowed himself to fall backwards, pulling the guard with him, time seemed to slow as they fell, bullets zipped by, thudding into the guard’s body armor. 

But the guards stopped firing once the bodies hit the ground, slowly moving in... 

He seized the moment to burst free of the body shielding, placing headshots in the other three before they could react. 

The champion stood there for a moment, slowing his breathing, recovering from the pain of the fall. He felt the muscles in his arms burn, the ringing in his ears from the gun shots. He continued using these as indicators this wasn’t a dream. 

His instincts were again moving him forward, he unclipped a smaller guards’ armor and with some difficulty put it on. Next, he plucked one of the ear buds off the body and adjusted it into his own, maybe he would get lucky enough to hear some chatter about what the hell was going on. 

“What’s going on down there, commander? Respond.” 

Should he risk pretending to be one of the men he’d just annihilated? They were coming for him regardless and no response was just as likely to draw the next wave, as them knowing it was an imposter on their coms. 

“He’s not here, sir. Looks like we were just a minute behind, though. Advise?” 

“Get your asses after him. Use extreme caution, I would prefer him alive, but if Hauser escapes this facility, we can all kiss our lives goodbye.” 

Hauser? His name was Hauser apparently? There was no one else alive around here. He’d thought once he heard his name, it would feel familiar, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He felt empty. Hallow. 

Whoever he was, if he was this Hauser, it meant he was also in serious trouble. Those were U.F.B. guards he’d killed, which meant the entire Government was against him. The fact they’d prefer him alive but viewed him as a serious threat, coupled with the fact he’d just awoken from something medically related didn’t fill him with confidence. 

Words kept springing up in his head, memories. Thoughts, but one word rebounded again and again. Run. 

He strapped on a leg holster, cinching it down considerably compared to its previous occupants' leg. He slung on a hip holster, stifling a nauseating wave of pain and picked up two more P-m2 handguns. 

Run where? He asked himself as he hurried down the hall, weapon drawn. He was militarily trained; he was instinctively clearing the upcoming doorways off the hall. Some of them were locked and others empty. He was still trailing some blood, something a sniff bot would instantly track. He needed to stop the bleeding, but he wanted to make up more distance before stopping. 

More distance where? His-Hauser's head spun with the confusion of it all, the shrouds of memories kept coming as he moved. The lights overhead brought on a terrible sensation...strapped to a hover bed, surrounded by armed guards, he was fighting. Straining against the agony of losing it all. Losing her. Losing everything he’d worked for. He remembered the change, his change. It had been a long road of transformation... 

Hauser suddenly became more aware of his current movements again, he didn’t know how much time had passed, only that now he was in a room, sitting on a bench, near a medical station. Mindlessly holding a medi-patch against his wounds. He didn’t remember coming here, his armor and torn, bloody shirt was heaped beside him on the floor. 

The pain was burning in his side again, it must have been another instinct warning him against much more movement without seeing to the wounds. The rest of the glass shards were beside him, in a dish. Blood soaked, like his finger tips. He hesitated. He didn’t remember taking them out. 

“There you are.” 

Hauser recoiled at the voice, jumping backward over the bench he’d been sitting on. From his fallen position, he’d leveled his gun on a woman. His other hand clutched the wound, as the movement crippled his breathing, blood seeped forward, he could stop the ragged gasp. 

“Baby calm down, it’s me, it’s me... I’m here to help.” 

He frowned. Unstirring, as his eyes rebounded across her features several times, he searched for familiarity. If she was an enemy, she could have already shot him, but she hadn’t and something about her made his chest tighten... Her auburn hair was long, glossy, her lips... she was beautiful. His instincts were to jangled to make a decision; he wasn’t prepared to just shoot her. His gun wavered. 

She took the moment to close the distance between them, softly pushing his weapon away. He went with her motion, without a reaction, hoping—as his heart pounded, furiously—that someone really was here to help him. He felt very alone. Afraid to admit he was afraid. 

She wrapped her fingers into his dark hair, the other hand went to his tanned cheek, her fingers caressed his brow. As she pulled him close, he felt himself stiffen, still counting on betrayal. But she only kissed him. On the cheek and his forehead, her lips were like ice against his skin, as she pulled him closer still. Relief flooded over him and he wasn’t sure why, she felt safe somehow. 

“Jesus. You're burning up! Let me help you.” She put herself under his arm and wrenched him to his feet. He promptly collapsed but she was strong, managing to keep him on his feet as they maneuvered back to the bench. His head was swimming, his breath was coming in torn gasps... the movement was horrid; it was all he could stand. 

“Not…. feeling so good.” he managed to say. 

She lifted his shirt, to reveal the bloody mass of lacerations and dark purple bruises. He heard a muttered curse or two, as she glanced up at him, he felt her question pass unspoken. He had no idea how he’d gotten the wounds. He couldn’t explain it, his eyes fell into shadow as he adverted his gaze, grimacing with another rack of pain. 

He quickly lost track of her as she vanished from his fading eyesight. He swallowed tightly, wondering who he’d put his faith in. His breath was still ragged, every lung full burned almost too bad to want to draw it in. 

The woman reappeared later; it couldn’t have been long but he had dosed off. She began applying something to his wound, which brought him to life, stirring a spasm of pain from him, he didn’t have strength to pull away... But his cry was guttural and obvious, echoing around the room, she brushed her fingers across his lips. 

“Shhhh, shhhh babe. I don’t know how far the bots are. I’m sorry. It'll pass.” 

He tried to obey, but the pain was horrific. It must have been a sterilizing graft patch she’d used, field kit equipment to hold body parts together in extreme situations. Somehow, he knew the patch also injected adrenaline drugs into his system. Yet her name still eluded him. 

He tucked the cries away in a strangled swallow that he could barely manage. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking by doing this to him, or who she was. But he’d buried his voice too deep to get to, along with his affliction. And he wasn’t sure he could handle how she might react to being forgotten. All his actions were instinctual right now and his most basic need was a partner. 

Everything continued fading in and out with the waves of pain, but he seen her head snap up. “Shit. Hang on. I’ll be right back.” 

She vanished in a smear of bouncing ponytail. He rotated himself slightly, fierce brown eyes followed after her. He bit his lip, if only his body would do as he desired. If it was the UFB she didn’t deserve to take the brunt of their brutality for... whatever Hauser had done. 

But he didn’t make it far. He slid off the table, grabbing one of the P-m2's on the way down. His first step faltered, overwhelmed by a lightheaded feeling of unconsciousness. 

He didn’t recall collapsing to the floor. 

Sometime later, Hauser was jolted awake. She was slapping his cheek and repeating his name. “Come on. We have to go.” 

“Go where?” He muttered, still half asleep, he'd been somewhere warm. Far away. He didn’t want to feel the pain again. The fear. The perplexity. 

But again, Hauser was unflatteringly pulled to his feet. It took a couple more minutes to become more aware of what was happening. Once he was more aware, he realized the pain was not as bad as it had been before. Her hair was soft against his forehead as he leaned against her. And she was still here, unless she was a figment of his imagination. 

He was still clutching his pistol. They were moving at a good pace, and she seemed to know where she was going. Again, he bit his tongue against asking how they knew each other. She was special, he cared about her, he felt more and more sure of it. Not just because she’d returned for him several times but because he sensed their connection, it was the sort of closeness not even losing your memory could fully affect apparently. 

Hauser knew her eyes. Her mannerisms were all familiar, her voice was like a dream. He knew her. He just couldn’t remember her name ...yet, but he swore he would. 

“I studied the maps of this complex for every minute I had, over the last twenty-four hours,” She told him as they moved, sensing his question. “We’re heading for an abandoned section, on the last level... Eventually. That’s our way out.” 

Hauser nodded solemnly, wondering how the lowest level was a good route for escape, but he didn’t ask. He trusted her knowledge more than his own, considering his very name felt like a foreign object. 

“I-I can stand,” he offered, pushing away from her strong frame ever so slightly. 

She gave him an inquisitive glance, as if sizing him up with one quick notion. “My only concern is your safety, Hauser. I would haul you out of here on my back if I had too.” 

He caught a glint in her eye as she bit her lip. “I’ve been looking for you for... for months.” 

His thick brows twitched instinctively, he got the sensation she thought he seemed weak, she seen herself as his protector, but Hauser didn’t know what his response should be. He wanted to make her feel better, but he couldn’t magically force his mind to recall the ‘before’; he didn’t know how long he’d been here or what her name was no matter how often the letters flitted through. It was so close and yet gripping them was like sand... 

Oddly enough it was the UFB that broke up the awkward silence before he had to answer. Deadly weapon’s fire split into the wall next to them, showering the two of them with splinters and dust. They darted into the next hallway, with his rescuer returning fire as they moved. 

Hauser was impressed, her shots dropped two of the UFB instantly as they rolled. She'd also snapped a grenade on and tossed it in their direction. The ensuing explosion tore apart whatever was left of the patrol. 

She pulled Hauser with her. “Come on, that’ll draw more of them in.” 

They broke into a run. Hands clasped, as alarms whirled. They raced on and on down the hallway. Hauser was wondering if there was an end to any of it, when she stopped their maniac dash. Only briefly though, she checked the symbols above the intersection before tugging him to the right. 

“This way.” 

He tried to follow but he couldn’t maintain their pace, he couldn’t breathe. His heart was pounding, and his vision faded in and out, finally he collapsed. 

“I just... I’m sorry. I can’t see. Need a breath.” 

She was kneeling beside him instantly. “This is my fault. You’ve lost so much blood; we shouldn’t be trying to move you.” She pressed her palm to his skin, checking his vitals, brushing his hair back, she kissed his forehead and pulled him close under her chin. “You’ve lost so much weight. It took me too long to find you... too long. I'm so sorry.” 

Hauser clung to her hand, he wanted desperately to reply to her words, he thought he did mumble something, but he couldn’t be sure. He was slipping away again, no matter how hard he tried to remain with her, his mind went further into the comforting world of darkness. To a dream world, where the warmth of her body against his was all he needed. All he wanted. 

They were in a small room. Hauser and Melina. That was her name! He clung tight to it, aware he was dreaming, he wanted this to be the one thing to bring back to the woman who’d rescued him. To someone he loved more than he ever thought possible. A monster like he. 

Melina. 

She was lying beside him on the bed, asleep. Faint sunlight glinting off her bare shoulders. Hauser was next to her, chin leaning on his hand as he watched her, rubbing his fingers down her arm. He remembered this as well, a dream here, but also a memory. A couple months after he’d located the master sect of the resistance. The one they’d been looking everywhere for, even now he was agonizingly considering how to spare this woman when he turned them over to Cohaagen. 

But she would never forgive him. She would hate him for this betrayal. They would never make love again like this. They would never be here in this moment, which was why he rested here, watching. Anxious, fingering an emotion he had never encountered before. Fear of loss. 

Betrayal. 

At first it seemed so simple. Hauser was ruthless. It was who he was. He was a spy; he’d fucked people for the mission before without a care in the world, men and women in both literal and physical sense but the emotions when he thought back over the hours they’d just spent together, burned through him like oil fires in the low levels of London. He tried to ignore the torture he’d inflicted on others, he tried to block the blood-soaked nightmares he was often ravaged with. 

There was only Melina, only the two of them. He wasn’t a trader. 

He wasn’t. He was starting to believe something altogether different about life. 

The more he denied it, the more the memory faded, the feeling of safety was fleeting, the hard edges of reality began returning and his eyes flashed open long enough to understand it was still not a place he wanted to be. 

The light was artificial and blinding, he quickly closed them against it, but fingers dug painfully into his shoulder, forcing a groan. Someone had noted his stir to consciousness. 

“There you are old friend.” This voice was familiar. Terrifyingly so. It was not Melina, though relief flooded him, that he remembered her name this time. Hauser didn’t know how much time had passed but something bad had happened, his thoughts rushed to her. It ignited a fire in him, that was instinctual, he pushed himself forward out of the chair he was in. 

The light was still blinding, but he didn’t need his eyes to react to the two federal police agents, to the left and right of Chancellor Vilos Cohaagen, he smashed into one of them painfully, in the charge from his chair, removing the police’s weapon on the way by. 

It was more of a controlled fall, but he twisted as he fell, blasting the officer, who’s weapon he’d taken. As they tumbled, he shot the second guard. He pushed himself back to his feet, taking aim on his former master. His eyes narrowed, there was a bizarre sense of obedience within him still for the Chancellor. It felt wrong to hold the Chancellor at gun point. 

“Where is she?” 

“She left you.” Cohaagen was holding his hands up defensively. “She doesn’t care about your wellbeing, Hauser.” 

Hauser fought off a wave of nausea. “And you do?” 

“My friend,” the older man smiled gently. “I know your mind is fractured. I brought you here to put it back together.” 

“To turn me back into your bio-murder bot, you mean.” Hauser retorted. He squeezed off a round just past Cohaagen’s left ear, to make his point. He enjoyed the brief look of fear that passed through the other’s eyes. “Where is she?” 

Cohaagen drew a shallow breath. “I’m telling you the truth, we found you in the 63rd Hall. Alone. Bleeding out... which you still are, let me help you.” 

The Chancellor almost sounded sincere and he found his hand trembling, he tried to steady the weapon. Part of Hauser’s instincts wanted to trust him. What did he know about any of this, including Melina’s reasons for rescuing him? He couldn’t remember what had happened after that day in the room, the last thing he remembered was fearing losing her. His true intent was to gain her trust and betray her, he couldn’t recall any further specifics. 

Maybe? Maybe she had... 

“Why, why... why would she do that to me?” His voice cracked, he sounded pathetic, broken. He might not remember perfectly but he had a feeling his old self would have been embarrassed by this weakened state. 

Before Cohaagen could answer, a B-95 droid appeared beside him. Maybe Hauser would have noticed in his prime state, maybe he could have fought off the UFB’s most dangerous elite droid but he was in no condition to do so. The B-95 had popped the pistol out of his grasp has soon as he’d noticed him. He heard his master order the droid not to hurt him, but before the order was received, he felt several bones in his forearm snap against the flesh as the droid attacked. 

By the time B-95 did cease the assault, Hauser was gasping at his own bones jutting outside the torn skin of his forearm. The droid had twisted his other arm behind his back and pushed him easily to his knees. 

He heard Cohaagen shout into his com for new medics and federal police. Hauser didn’t pass out, but he gave up fighting them. There was no escaping. Melina was gone. And if he were to escape, he would most likely bleed to death long before figuring out this complex. 

The new medics grasped him firmly but gently. They were afraid of him, but he went with them, collapsing onto the hover bed. He faded in and out with the doses of drugs they rushingly administered. Wondering how long he would remember Melina when they reset his memory this time. He didn’t even know what had happened the first time. He squeezed his eyes closed against it, he didn’t want to forget her, even if she had abandoned him. His original intention was to turn them all over to Cohaagen, so maybe he deserved all this, but regardless, even shattered shards of their shared moments were far better than the gloomy, harsh reality he knew. Serving Cohaagen again. Loyal. Empty, He felt hot tears slip down his cheeks with the unescapable thoughts. 

But his fate was yet to be sealed. He was slipping away to unconsciousness, when he heard the head medic sternly inform the Chancellor there would be no memory reset while his patient was in this state, unless they wanted to kill him here and now. Cohaagen agreed to wait, almost too quickly, like he cared about his most crucial spy. He ordered tripled security, heavy doses of Clomufill, an anesthetic and restraints. 

Hauser was already asleep again by that point, intending to relish any time he had left in his dream world.


End file.
